


quite pervy, really.

by reindeerjumper



Category: Bridget Jones's Diary (2001), Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-06 17:09:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12215190
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reindeerjumper/pseuds/reindeerjumper
Summary: It was Harry Hart's 30th Kingsman Christmas party. Upon entering the ballroom, he notices a pair of broad shoulders and a pert behind.Maybe this is Mr. Right, he thinks to himself. Then, the shoulders turn around, and Harry's immediate response is,Maybe not.The Bridget Jones crossover that nobody asked for.





	1. a reindeer jumper

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to share this! A huge thank you to [thatgirlwho for beta'ing for me and flailing. Also to ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thatgirlwho)[nahrky](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nahrky) for being a constant cheerleader & making this way more fun than it probably should've been. Last but not least, a big thank you to [Regency](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Regency/pseuds/Regency), because without her, I wouldn't have started this wild ride to begin with.
> 
> I tried to stick as closely to canon as I could with both, but I needed to bend the rules a bit to make everything fit. 
> 
> Enjoy!

It was a truth universally acknowledged that Harry Hart had been single for far too long. 

He had entered his thirtieth Kingsman Christmas party with Merlin at his side, feeling entirely annoyed and far from cheerful. He and Merlin attended the party every year together, not as a couple, but more as a combined force. Strength in numbers and all that malarky.

Upon entering the ballroom at the mansion, Merlin quickly navigated them towards the bar. Harry followed suit, quickly placing an order for a double whiskey, neat. Merlin ordered a gin with a splash of tonic and a twist of lime. As they grabbed their drinks, they turned back towards the ballroom to survey the crowd. Harry’s eyes scanned the area around him as he sipped. Mingling amongst the familiar faces of other agents and techs were several young, fresh-faced recruits. 

Harry knew none of them. Being in a coma allowed him that faux pas. 

He had missed the last round of the recruiting process for Lancelot’s spot due to a nasty blow to the head from a mission in Paris. He had been in a coma for the better part of a month, missing his chance to petition for a new candidate. Since waking up, he hadn’t bothered getting to know any of the recruits. In actuality, 98% of them would be gone by the end of the trials anyway, so why bother? 

Across the room, he could see Percival talking to a rather attractive young woman, with a sheet of blonde hair falling around her bare shoulders. Bors was nearby, speaking to a tall, square-jawed young man with ears that stuck out just a  _ little _ too much for Harry’s taste. Beyond them was Lamorak and Arthur. Flanking either side of them were two young men, one with hair the color of a duckling’s arse and the other was broad-shouldered with a face that you wanted to punch and kiss simultaneously. 

With a subtle nod of his head, Harry said, “Who’s the knob standing next to Arthur?”

Merlin followed Harry’s line of vision before settling on the square shoulders and chiseled jaw of the man Harry had been staring at. “Ah,” Merlin murmured into his glass. “That’d be Charlie Hesketh, Arthur’s candidate. Real wanker.”

“Couldn’t tell,” Harry replied sarcastically. “How about the one next to him?”

“Hugo Jenkins. Another wanker.”

“Aren’t they all?”

“Usually, I’d agree, but there  _ is _ an exception this trial.” Merlin took a sip from his drink, letting out a satisfied hiss as he lowered the glass from his mouth. “Since you were in a coma, we let Percival petition for two candidates to cover yours, and he surprised us all. He petitioned for that lovely young lady right there--” Merlin nodded in the direction of the blonde woman that had caught Harry’s eye initially, “--and for that young man with his back to us. Green jumper.”

Harry followed Merlin’s gaze, looking in the direction that he had nodded. Now standing near the young woman was a young man with his back to Harry. Unlike the others at the party, the young man wasn’t dressed in a suit. He had on a pair of black jeans and a green turtleneck, which made the corners of Harry’s lips quirk. He’d always liked rebels. 

Intrigued by the young man, Harry allowed his eyes to freely roam over his stocky frame. He had broad shoulders, and even under the knit fabric of the jumper, Harry could see the swell of his biceps. His stance was wide and relaxed, one hand in his jeans pocket and the other holding a glass of something that looked obnoxiously holiday-centric, with its stick of cinnamon and mounds of whipped cream. The young man turned his head to the left to speak to the other of Percival’s candidates, and Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. Even at a distance, Harry could make out his incredibly sharp jawline, glistening with the slightest prickle of blonde hair, and eyelashes that would make any drag queen jealous.

“Who is he?” Harry asked, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible.

“You’ll never believe it,” Merlin replied, smiling into his glass.

“Try me.”

“Lee Unwin’s son, Gary. He goes by Eggsy, though.”

Harry didn’t know which he was more startled by, the fact that this golden god of a boy was Lee Unwin’s son, or the ridiculous nickname he apparently insisted on being called.

“Eggsy?” he asked incredulously, taking a steadying sip of his whiskey.

“You heard me. And the lass is Roxy Morton.”

Harry let out a hum of acknowledgement. He continued to openly stare at the young man’s back, watching as he threw his head back in laughter that sounded like heaven. Harry’s throat had become uncharacteristically dry, and he took another sip of whiskey to try and unstick his tongue.

“Want me to introduce you to him?” he heard Merlin say somewhere from his left.

Harry choked on his drink, sputtering in an embarrassing way before regaining his composure. “Why ever would I want you to introduce me to him?” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Merlin shrugged. “You’re eyeballing him like he’s a piece of meat. It’s obnoxious, so I figured I’d save you the trouble of Bors and Kay torturing you in the locker room.”

“What is this, second form?”

“You know they will.”

Harry let out a huff, annoyed that Merlin was right. “Fine. I will allow you to introduce me to the boy, out of propriety for Lee’s sake, if anything.” He drained the last of his whiskey before setting the glass back down on the mahogany bar top. Harry could feel Merlin rolling his eyes. “Let’s get this over with,” he said, holding a hand out to allow Merlin to lead the way.

As they approached the group of agents and recruits, Harry caught sight of Charlie Hesketh approaching from the other side. He slowed his pace, curious to see the Unwin boy’s interactions with the posh, pompous individuals they usually recruited. Holding out a hand, he gently grabbed the back of Merlin’s jumper, willing him to stop. Merlin picked up on the signal and came to a halt, jamming a hand in his pocket as he turned to face Harry. Before he could ask what the problem was, Harry gently nodded his head to where Eggsy and Charlie now stood.

“You look like a fucking idiot,” he heard Charlie say, a sneer marring his handsome features as he gave Eggsy a once over. “Shame, really, for someone as good looking as yourself to be wearing something so utterly stupid.”

Harry watched the broad line of Eggsy’s shoulders tense as the hand at his side clenched into a fist. “I suppose you think you’re funny or something?” he heard the boy say. The East London accent that Eggsy’s voice was dripping in warmed the cockles of Harry’s heart. He couldn’t remember the last time someone stood in their hallowed halls that wasn’t a descendant of an earl or vacationed in the South of France when they were a child. But now, here stood this magnificent creature--strong lines, handsome features, confident stance--with an accent that sounded like he was a pickpocket in a detective movie. 

“Your mum make you that? Knit it herself in her little council flat?”

“Fuck off, Charlie.”

“Eggsy, relax.” The young woman whom Merlin had called “lovely” was living up to her reputation. She had placed a gentle hand on Eggsy’s arm, her eyes trained on his face with a worried expression. “He’s not worth it. Go find someone else to torture, Charlie. You won’t be here for long, anyway.” Lovely  _ and _ lethal. Harry approved.

With death in his eyes, Charlie smirked at them both before turning around and retreating. Harry watched as Eggsy turned towards his friend, the angry line of his back slumping forward in relief. “Thanks, Rox,” he heard Eggsy mutter. “Could’ve handled it without you, but I appreciate you having my back.”

Rox--Harry assumed this was short for “Roxanne”--smiled at Eggsy and said, “No problem. I just don’t want you to throw away your chance over that prick. You’re too good to lose it all over the likes of  _ him.” _ Eggsy huffed a laugh and pulled Roxanne into a hug, bringing her head to his chest.

Something clenched inside of Harry’s gut.  _ Could this be someone worth knowing?  _

Merlin looked over at him and raised his eyebrows, silently inquiring whether or not he could finally introduce the two. Harry took a sharp breath through his nostrils, then gave a nod. Merlin rolled his eyes before reaching out a hand to tap Eggsy on his shoulder.

_ Could this be Mr. Right? _ Harry internally reprimanded himself for being so stupid while allowing himself one last look at the young man’s perfectly round arse. 

The young man turned around, and for half a second Harry was breathless. His face was like chiseled marble, all square jaw and aquiline nose, framed with perfectly arched eyebrows and laugh lines bracketing the cockeyed smirk on his lips. Harry drank him in, thinking to himself that he could very easily fall in love with this gorgeous ruffian.

His eyes slid down from the young man’s face to his chest, Harry hungry for a glimpse of the muscle that matched his biceps. Instead of rock hard pecs and abs, though, Harry caught a glimpse of a truly horrendous reindeer face stitched into the front of Eggsy’s jumper.

_ Hmm, maybe not Mr. Right, _ he thought to himself, quickly banishing any further thought of falling for Lee Unwin’s son. 

“Eggsy, I’d like you to meet Harry Hart, our very own Galahad,” Merlin said as he made a sweeping gesture in Harry’s direction.

Eggsy’s face lit up as he kept his gaze trained on Harry’s face. “Nice to meet you, guv,” he said, sticking out his hand to shake Harry’s.

Harry forced a smile before taking the hand offered to him. As he looked down at their hands clasped together, he caught a glimpse of the young man’s footwear--a pair of truly atrocious winged trainers, bright white and pristine. He tried to diminish the shudder that jolted through his body. He brought his eyes back up to Eggsy’s and smiled. “Nice to meet you, as well.”

“So why am I just meeting you now? You’ve been hiding?” Eggsy’s face was lit up in a megawatt grin, the green of his eyes sparkling in the light of the ballroom. 

“Mmm, no,” Harry said carefully, pursing his lips into a thin line. “Coma, actually.”

Eggsy’s face dropped as he ran a hand across the back of his neck. “Oh, sorry about that. I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine,” Harry replied, giving him a ghost of a smile. “I wouldn’t expect you to have known.”

There was an awkward silence as the three of them stood there, Harry and Eggsy decidedly realizing that their feet were far less intimidating than each other’s faces, and Merlin standing between them in exasperated annoyance. Finally, Merlin cleared his throat and said, “Right, well…” before trailing off inelegantly and sliding away from them both.

Harry heard Eggsy huff out a laugh before taking a sip of his drink. When Harry looked up to try and excuse himself from the conversation, he found himself rooted to the spot. A bit of the whipped cream that topped Eggsy’s drink was now on the tip of his nose, and Harry had to bite back the urge to kiss it off. 

“Ah, you have a bit of whipped cream,” Harry started, pointing to his own nose in the hopes that Eggsy picked up on the hint. 

The young man’s eyes grew wide in embarrassment before he lifted a free hand to wipe the cream off of his nose. “Thanks,” he murmured.

“What are you drinking?” Harry asked innocently. At this point, he wanted to fall into a hole in the floor, but it didn’t look like he’d be that lucky. He hated small talk, and he especially hated it when it was only between himself and one other person. With Merlin now gone, there was no buffer.

“Gingerbread eggnog,” he replied with a smile. “Apparently it’s the drink of the evening.” Harry tried to hide the grimace that rolled across his features. Leave it to the kitchens to come up with some absurd concoction for the holidays. “It ain’t too bad, actually.”

“What, if sugary, whipped cream concoctions are your fancy?” The words had tumbled out of Harry's  mouth before he could stop them. He immediately set his jaw, embarrassed at his lack of decorum. 

“Wow, tell me how you really feel, eh?” Eggsy said, a bit of pink now tinging his cheeks. 

“I apologize. That was unforgivably rude of me.”

“No worries, guv. Whipped cream ain’t for everyone.”

They stood in awkward silence some more before a bell rang from across the room. Harry let out a relieved sigh, slightly amused at the fact that Eggsy did the same. “Looks as if it’s time to eat,” he said, smiling at Eggsy. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Eggsy murmured, turning back towards his group. “It was nice meeting you, Galahad.”

“You, too, Eggsy.”

Harry watched him retreat back to where Roxanne now stood, and he jammed his hands in his pockets to avoid wrinkling the bottom of his suit jacket with his sweaty fists. He could feel Merlin’s presence before he heard his voice asking, “So?”

Harry sighed and turned around. Merlin had a glint of mischief in his eyes as he looked at him over the rim of his gin and tonic. “He’s nice enough,” Harry started, keeping his fists securely where they were. “I just...I just could never see myself with someone who has such poor taste. Did you see that jumper? And those trainers, my god. I haven’t been single this long to suddenly settle like that.”

During his shpiel, he didn’t notice Merlin’s face slowly falling from mischief to panic. It wasn’t until the last syllable had dropped from his mouth that he noticed Merlin’s look of steely-eyed disapproval.

“What?” Harry asked. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Merlin simply nodded his head, gesturing to the space behind Harry. Slowly, Harry turned around and came face to face with those captivating green eyes that he had wished to be drowned in only twenty minutes before. Sadly, though, they were no longer sparkling with admiration and curiosity. They were now wounded and cloudy, the perfect arches of Eggsy’s eyebrows now furrowed together as he looked at Harry. 

“Eggsy, I--”

“Nah, guv, don’t.” He put up a hand, stopping Harry mid-sentence. “I’m used to fancy, high-class chaps like yourself looking down your nose at the likes of me. Ain’t nothing I haven’t heard before.” Sticking his hand out, he offered Harry a fresh gingerbread eggnog that he clearly had ordered for Harry. “Thought you might want to try it. Everyone could use a little holiday spirit.” He bit the soft pillow of his bottom lip as he dipped his eyes down, the long fringe of eyelashes Harry had spotted across the room gently fluttering against the freckled tops of his cheeks. He pushed the cup into Harry’s hand, gave him one last hurt look, and ducked away.

He turned on a winged trainer and headed towards the dining room, leaving Harry with a cup of gingerbread eggnog in hand and the beginnings of a hard-on in his pants.


	2. incidentally, the best shag i've ever had

Once the height of the holidays had tapered off and the mansion had gotten back to its normal level of operation, Harry found himself thinking about the run-in with Eggsy far too frequently. On more than one occasion, he cringed in embarrassment and self-loathing over how crass he had been. It didn’t help that the image of Eggsy’s eyes with their hurt glint had somehow seeped into his soul. 

Despite the embarrassment, Harry made it a point to start making himself more present around the candidates. He would sporadically show up at Merlin’s side during their training, or offer to stand-in as a target or civilian on missions Merlin set up for them. The longer Harry was around them all, the more fond he felt towards Eggsy, and the more he loathed Charlie Hesketh.

The Hesketh boy was everything that Harry found abominable. He was pompous and crass, and obviously entitled. Harry had punched more similar men in the face than he’d like to admit, and the urge to connect his calloused knuckles with Charlie’s smirking mouth was overwhelming. Harry would linger along the perimeter of certain tasks, watching how he’d torture Eggsy, throwing slurs towards him and tossing biased observations at his feet. He was always waiting for Eggsy to take the bait and fuck himself over. 

With each instance, he could see the heat rising on Eggsy’s neck, and Harry could feel his own ire catching in his throat. Despite the boy’s horrid taste in clothing, Eggsy was starting to cling to Harry’s heart like an algae-covered barnacle. He was ridiculous and outspoken and quick to anger, but he was also loyal and fair and kind. Instead of rising to the challenge, Eggsy always politely told Charlie, “Fuck off,” before turning his back and valiantly trying to ignore him.

If Harry had been in Eggsy’s shoes, Charlie’s teeth would’ve been down his throat months ago.

It was a quiet Sunday when Harry decided to fuck propriety and go in search of Eggsy. The candidates were down to the last three--Eggsy, Roxy, and Charlie--and Harry knew the whereabouts of at least two of them. Roxy was off in the gym, training with a kickboxing bag, and he had seen the Hesketh boy slinking around near Arthur’s office only a half hour earlier. As far as Eggsy was concerned, Merlin had tipped Harry off that Eggsy had taken up a habit of reading in the dorms on his nights off. 

This was how Harry had found himself in the medicinally bare hallway that led to the stainless steel door of the dorm. As he raised his knuckles to rap on the door, a sound down the hallway caught his attention. It was voices, and the thick accent of one of them was unmistakeable. 

Harry quickly inserted himself into the maintenance closet that sat across from the dorms. Among  the clean towels and bed linens that lined the walls, Harry kept the door open a sliver with the toe of his Oxford. Through the crack, he could see Eggsy with his hands shoved in his pockets, the flat brim of his hat cocked ever-so-slightly on his brow. He was flushed and annoyed looking. Behind him strode Charlie, his thumbs lazily hooked in the pocket of his trousers and a smug look on his face.

“C’mon now, Unwin, I know you don’t  _ actually _ hate me.”

Harry watched interestedly as Eggsy let out an exasperated sigh before dragging a hand down his face. “Look, bruv, I just went to the mess hall to see if I could rustle up something to eat. I don’t need you harassing me every chance you get, you get me? I know you’re probably used to getting what you want with no questions being asked, but I ain’t one of ‘em.” 

The last sentence seemed to throw Harry off a bit. He felt his brow furrow as he watched the Hesketh boy reach out and grab Eggsy’s muscular forearm. He pushed Eggsy up against the wall next to the door, and for half a beat Harry almost rocketed out of the closet to swipe Charlie’s feet out from underneath him before fireman-carrying Eggsy out of the mansion, but something had stopped him. The way Charlie had shoved Eggsy hadn’t been aggressive--on the contrary, it was a gentle, seductive shove, one that pinned Eggsy between Charlie’s broad chest and the cinderblock wall behind him. 

“Charlie, c’mon,” Eggsy muttered, dropping his gaze down to the floor.

Charlie was now gently nuzzling his way up Eggsy’s throat, his hand braced against Eggsy’s head on the wall behind him. From his spot in the doorway, Harry could see the heat rising on Eggsy’s neck, and although he had gone willingly, his face said he wasn’t completely enjoying Charlie’s attention.

“You know, Unwin, you are rather delicious when you’re squirming underneath me.” Harry felt anger pooling in the pit of his stomach as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

“I don’t even know why you like me, you perv. You treat me like utter dog shite when other people are around, and then the second we’re alone, you’re all over me like fucking white on rice.”

“ Come on, Eggsy, for God's sake. You're sexy. You make me laugh - at you of course, not with you. And you were, incidentally, the best shag I ever had.” Charlie continued to scrape his teeth along the muscular column of Eggsy’s neck as Harry watched Eggsy’s fists ball up at his sides. 

“Fuck off,” he heard Eggsy murmur. He turned his head to face Charlie, and that was when Charlie claimed his prize. Harry watched as he covered Eggsy’s mouth with his own, the long line of his hand roughly grabbing Eggsy’s jaw and the other pulling Eggsy’s waist closer to his. Harry heard Eggsy give an annoyed grunt at the action, but he made no point to pull away. Eventually, Harry watched the tension bleed out of Eggsy’s body as he leaned forward into Charlie’s embrace. 

_ Well _ , Harry supposed, _ that was that.  _

It was like a painfully graphic car accident--he couldn’t tear his eyes away, but he daren’t approach out of fear. He watched in silent anger as Charlie explored Eggsy’s mouth with his tongue, and desperately tried to ignore the twitch of his own cock at the small, strangled moans Eggsy made. The scene felt like it went on forever, and Harry was using every ounce of self restraint to not interrupt the moment. He had made the boy uncomfortable enough--the last thing he needed was a senior agent exploding out of a linen closet to break up a seemingly intimate moment.

“Y’know, Roxy is still up in the gym…” Charlie trailed off, his face only inches from Eggsy’s.

Harry watched as Eggsy rolled his eyes before shoving his hands back into his pockets. He stared intently at Charlie, licking his kiss-bitten lips. Even from his hiding spot, Harry could see the green glint of his eyes flickering under the brim of his hat. “Fine,” he muttered. “If you can’t get off in ten minutes, then I call truce. The last thing I need is Rox finding out I’m fucking you.”

The sound Charlie made was the equivalent of what Harry felt, and Harry watched him grab one of Eggsy’s arms and eagerly pull him into the dorms. Once the sound of the heavy stainless steel door closing finished echoing down the empty hallway, Harry pushed the closet door open and stepped out. He looked both ways, making a pertinent effort to not allow his gaze to fall on the now closed dorm door. Since the coast was clear, Harry ran the palms of his hands down the front of him, awkwardly cleared his throat, and quickly made his way in the direction that he had come from.


	3. a truth universally acknowledged

A few weeks after Harry had spied on Eggsy and Charlie in the hallway, he was placed in an awkward position that left him wanting to physically duct-tape Merlin to a wall. 

“You’re going on a pseudo-mission with Eggsy,” Merlin had said to him, a smug smile on his face as his eyes glinted mischievously over the rim of his coffee mug.

“Sorry, come again?” Harry had responded, squinting his eyes and cocking an ear in Merlin’s direction.

“You heard me, Galahad. The recruits need to learn how to think on their feet in a field situation, so we’ve decided to have our own agents essentially spy on them and then report back with things they did well and things they did poorly. Seeing as we’re down an agent, and Bors and Lamorak are out on missions, we’re left with just Kay, Gawain, and you, Galahad.”

“First of all, what’s the mission? Second of all, I fucking hate you. Wipe that smug grin off of your face.”

Merlin had laughed at that, a hearty belly laugh that Harry only heard when he was truly amused. “Calm down, Harry. The mission is simple. Infiltrate a high society party, shmooze the host, drink champagne, and retrieve the chip from the safe in the host’s bedroom. Eggsy could do it in his sleep.”

He rolled his eyes before looking back at Merlin. “Fine, I’ll do it,” he said.

“You really have no choice.”

“Fucker,” Harry said. Merlin grinned again. “Are we to meet beforehand?”

“No, I think the element of surprise will be good for him to have. He won’t know that you’re the field agent of choice unless he sees you at the party.”

“Bloody wonderful.”

“Good luck, Galahad.” 

Merlin winked at him, that painfully sly smirk still on his face. Harry promised himself that Merlin’s tablet would find a far worse fate than this mission by the time all was said and done.


	4. anyone going to introduce me?

At quarter past six, a Kingsman cab glided up in front of Harry’s residence. Before exiting his foyer, Harry checked his reflection one last time, unnecessarily adjusting his bow tie and running a hand carefully over the gelled hair at his brow. He let out a steadying breath, grabbed his Rainmaker from the stand by the door, and walked out.

The cab that picked him up promptly dropped him off on the sidewalk outside of a very posh looking hotel, and Harry thanked the driver before unfurling himself from the backseat. No one else was on the sidewalk near him--he had arrived late, as usual--so he straightened his bowtie and hooked his Rainmaker over his arm before entering the party. 

Once inside, Harry beelined for the bar and grabbed a glass of red wine. He meandered for a bit, smiling kindly at those he made eye contact with and keeping an eye out for Eggsy in the crowd. He soon posted himself by a wall in the ballroom, his height an advantage to see over the heads of the others in the crowd. He hadn’t spotted Eggsy yet, but he knew it would only be a matter of time. 

A few moments passed before Harry saw Eggsy milling about. He looked amazing in a midnight blue tuxedo, his shirt bright white against the black lapels of the jacket. There was something about seeing the pair of Kingsman issued glasses on his face that sent a spark of lust through Harry’s body, and he had to shake the feeling off to refocus himself to the task at hand. 

Bemusedly, Harry watched as Eggsy walked about the crowd, his face lit up in a megawatt smile and a flute of champagne hanging delicately from his fingertips. Harry was so caught up in watching Eggsy that he didn’t realize that he was flat out staring at him. He was getting closer to where Harry was standing, and almost bumped straight into Harry’s chest as he thanked someone over his shoulder for directing him to the loos. When Eggsy finally caught sight of Harry staring at him, the look on his face was comical. He was slack-jawed and wide-eyed, disbelief written all over his features as he hungrily drank Harry in.

_ “You’re  _ the agent they sent me?” he hissed, jabbing a finger in Harry’s direction. 

“I am. Is that a problem?”

“Well, no,” Eggsy replied lamely, his hand dropping back down his side. “I just...you’re like, the best agent Kingsman has. And now you’re here to observe me or whatever. _ ” _

“I suppose you’d have to ask Merlin about that.”

“Fucking Merlin,” Eggsy muttered, and Harry’s mouth quirked into a smile.

“Mmm, I said the same thing,” he replied. The irony of the situation was lost on Eggsy as hurt flashed across his face. Harry only realized a nanosecond too late how his statement had sounded, and he quickly tried to amend his words. “I only meant that he hasn’t told me a single detail of the situation at hand. I’m just here to observe. It’s quite boring, honestly.” He paused to take a sip of his wine. “Funnily enough, though, I was under the impression that you weren’t to know about us being here at all. How did you know why I’m here?”

Eggsy’s face blanched as he bumbled, the green of his eyes glinting in the lowlight of the room. Suddenly, a paunchy looking man that Harry recognized as Eggsy’s target ambled up to them. He had a terrible combover and a pencil-thin mustache that made Harry think of his father’s terrible friends. The man gave them a painfully fake smile before saying, “Anyone going to introduce me?”

Harry watched as Eggsy returned the smile. He noticed it didn’t reach the boy’s eyes. “Ah, Horatio,” he said, all traces of his accent completely gone as he spoke. “This is Mark Darcy. He’s a top barrister. Comes from Grafton Underwood.” Eggsy now pointed towards Horatio with the hand that held his champagne flute. “Horatio is the host of this wonderful soiree.”

Horatio gave Harry another smile. “Nice to meet you.”

Harry gave him a small nod before saying, “You, as well.” He glanced back at Eggsy, his eyes lit up with mischief. Horatio may have missed the copyright infringement that Eggsy was blatantly parading about, but Harry was a rather nuanced rom-com aficionado. Regardless, he was impressed with Eggsy’s quick thinking.

Suddenly, Harry felt a presence next to him. He glanced to his side and was surprised to see Kay standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him. Harry knew that the other two recruits were somewhere in the room, racing towards the same goal as Eggsy, but he hadn’t really thought about the other agents who were partaking in the same mission as he was. 

“Ah, Nathan,” Harry said, gesturing towards Kay. Kay’s eyebrows raised at the sudden alias he had been given, but he rolled with it. “This is Brian Jones. Brian, this is Nathan. Nathan is a top attorney, specializing in family law. Brian is the son of a friend. Used to run around my lawn naked, if memory serves me correctly.”

Harry watched as the blood ran out of Eggsy’s face, and he smirked behind his wine glass. Next to him, Kay let out a groan as he said, “Hm, odd.” He gave Eggsy and Horatio a tight-lipped smile before taking Horatio by the elbow and guiding him away from Harry and Eggsy.  _ Probably putting him right into Charlie’s lap,  _ Harry thought with annoyance.

“What was that all about? And how did you know my cover?” Eggsy muttered, glaring at him over the rim of his champagne flute.

Harry shrugged. “You did, at one point. Run around my lawn naked, I mean. You may have fooled Horatio, but I know a rom-com script when I hear one.” He took a measured sip of his drink, keeping his eyes trained on Eggsy’s. “As for your cover, Merlin  _ may _ have divulged more information than I initially led on.”

Eggsy flushed, the tips of his ears turning a darling shade of red and the span of his cheeks flooding with color.

Harry waited a second before continuing, his eyes still lingering on the beautiful rose color of Eggsy’s cheeks. “You need to work on your poker face. That blush gave you right away.”

The redness on Eggsy’s cheeks deepened. “Fuck,” he said, rubbing his palm down the front of his thighs. 

“Think about something empowering. It usually works for me in awkward situations.”

“Empowering how? Like, The Hulk? Or Wolverine?”

Harry used every ounce of his muscle power to avoid rolling his eyes. “If that works for you, then yes,” he muttered, glancing out at the crowd.

After a few moments, he heard Eggsy’s voice again. “What do you think of?” 

Harry glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Me? Eliza Doolittle.”

“The bird from  _ My Fair Lady?” _

It was Harry’s turn to now look at Eggsy with slack-jawed amazement. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises. Yes, the  _ bird  _ from  _ My Fair Lady _ . I think she’s a fair example of being stuck in an embarrassing situation and coming out on the other side with nary a scrape. I find her to be a very ominous creature.”

Eggsy smiled at that, a close-lipped smile that made the dimple in his cheek deepen to the point of enticing Harry to eat ice cream out of it. “Cool,” he murmured before turning back towards the crowd.

Despite how utterly ridiculous the boy seemed, Harry was beginning to see the layers of him underneath the surface. He was clearly smart, had impeccable taste in movies (despite the superhero comment), was incredibly attractive, and quite frankly, he had made Harry genuinely laugh more times in the last few months than he had in awhile. It was simple--he liked the boy. Even with the ominous cloud of realization about Eggsy’s relationship with Charlie looming over Harry’s head, he couldn’t shake the feeling that if he bided his time, it could be  _ him _ in Charlie’s place. 

Suddenly, someone motioned to Eggsy from the stage at the front of the room. Harry’s brow furrowed in confusion as Eggsy waved back to them before turning back to Harry and smiling. Without a word, he turned around and headed to the stage.


	5. just as you are

It had been a shit show. 

Once Eggsy had taken the stage, he had become the center of everyone’s attention. As if his incredibly good looks weren’t distracting enough, him blowing into the microphone to find it not working and then shouting, “Oi!  _ OI!”ˆ _ into the crowd sealed the deal. 

Harry had watched from his spot, cringing inwardly as he closed his eyes to try and will the scene away. 

He later found out that Horatio had managed to convince Eggsy into introducing him. Harry found it hard to piece together all of the details as Eggsy rambled on and on--something about “adding a lovely sense of occasion”--but it was all lost on him as Eggsy’s voice shouting, “ _ OI!” _ echoed in his brain. Thankfully, Eggsy hadn’t mucked up the entire mission  _ too _ badly, and he had emerged as the victorious candidate from a private suite, the SIM card pinched between his pointer finger and thumb as he grinned at Harry breathlessly, his hair mussed from Horatio’s ministrations.

Harry had been simultaneously proud and nauseous at the sight.

They now found themselves around the Round Table in the meeting room, Eggsy bracketed between Percival and Roxy, with Charlie and Arthur next to her. Across from them stood Harry, Kay, Merlin, and Gawain. Harry was watching Eggsy with interest, the blush from Horatio’s ballroom no longer tinging his cheeks ( _ Good boy) _ , but slightly lingering around his collar. Next to him, Harry could hear Merlin let out a long, exasperated breath through his nose.

“Right,” Merlin started, tucking his tablet under his arm and addressing the group across the table. “This is quite the quandry. Although Eggsy was the candidate to successfully obtain the chip from Horatio, he wasn’t exactly the most subtle agent in the room.” Eggsy squared his jaw, jutting his legs just a smidge wider as his eyebrow quirked above the frames of his glasses. Harry smirked.

“Roxy, top marks, as always, for your use of subtle questioning and using that sparkling personality to your advantage.” The young girl blushed prettily along her cheeks, dipping her head down before lifting her gaze once more to murmur, “Thank you, sir.”  

Merlin then turned towards Charlie, looking at him down the line of his nose. “Charlie, I really can’t find any rhyme or reason to give you praise. You didn’t obtain the SIM card, you didn’t capture the attention of your mark, and to be quite frank, you consumed enough champagne to subdue a small horse. Sadly, there are no accolades for alcoholism--just ask Harry--so it seems you’re out. Pack up your things. A cab will be waiting for you.”

Harry watched with smug satisfaction as Charlie spluttered indignantly. Since gentlemen weren’t wont to stare, Harry dropped his gaze down to the perfectly polished tips of his oxfords, keeping his hands to stay clasped behind his back as he ran the tip of his thumb along the bottom of his signet. His eyes, however, returned to Charlie when he heard him exclaim, “You’re honestly going to keep this fucking  _ guttersnipe _ over me? He’s the farthest thing from Kingsman material you could find! Just look at him! He’s wears fucking snapbacks and sneakers! He speaks like he has marbles in his goddamn mouth! This is an outrage!”

Harry clenched his jaw and stared at Charlie from across the room, his hands now painfully grabbing each other behind his back. In his mind, Harry was counting backwards very slowly from one-hundred, the enamel on his molars threatening to flake off as he ground his teeth. Before he had a chance to snap, Merlin stepped in.

“You will  _ not  _ speak to a room full of your superiors in that manner, Hesketh. Pack up your things and leave with what decorum you have left.”

An angry red flooded Charlie’s face as he looked at Merlin, then glanced at Eggsy. “You’re going to go down in a delusional ball of heroic flames, just like your idiot father,” he spat in Eggsy’s direction. Harry winced, the emotion catching in his throat as he looked towards Eggsy. The boy refused to look at Charlie as he spit insults at him, his jaw still squared and his feet firmly planted on the floor below him. Harry’s heart ached for him.

“If you truly think you’ll become an agent, Egg Boy, you’ve got another thing coming.”

For the first time since entering the room, Eggsy turned his head towards Charlie and cooly said, “Remind me, again, how you were able to fuck up the easiest assignment we've been given?”

Before Charlie could respond, Harry spoke up. “By being a pompous, narcissistic, entitled twit.” 

Eggsy’s eyes flashed to where Harry stood. Harry held his gaze confidently, his hands remaining behind his back to hide the sweat that was now drenching them.

“Alright, that’s enough. Hesketh, leave before we forcibly remove you,” Merlin said, glancing between Harry and Eggsy. He crossed the space between himself and Charlie, firmly took him by the elbow, and guided him out the door. Once the door closed behind them both, an uncomfortable silence fell over the room. Roxy quickly took the opportunity to smile fondly at Percival and gesture towards the door with her head. Percival gave her a rare quirk of his lips before following her out.

One-by-one the other agents filed out until only Harry and Eggsy were left in the room. Eggsy’s stone cold exterior was finally starting to crack as he let out a long, shaky breath from between his perfectly bowed lips. He ran a hand through his hair, his square fingers breaking up the strands from the pomade that held them to his head. Unceremoniously shoving his hands in his pockets, he started to walk towards the door before Harry said, “I very much enjoyed your speech at the party, by the way.”

Eggsy turned towards him and said, “Thank you,” traces of hesitancy and disbelief in his eyes. 

“Yes, well…” Harry took a step towards him. “I’m assuming it didn’t work out with Charlie, then?”

The disbelief in Eggsy’s eyes now turned to panicked surprise. “What? Ho-how did you know about me and Charlie?”

“I’m a spy, Eggsy.”

Eggsy closed his eyes and took another steadying breath. Harry took the opportunity to openly gaze at Eggsy’s face. “No, it didn’t work out with Charlie,” he said, opening his eyes and levelling a steely gaze on Harry.

“I’m delighted to hear it.”

“Look, are you trying to make me feel like a complete idiot? Every time I see you, you’re either looking down your nose at me or making some snide comment about my ‘lack of finesse’. You don’t need to remind me, guv. I’m well aware of how different I am from the rest of you, being a  _ guttersnipe _ and everything.” He spat the word out, venom on his lips and fire in his eyes. Dragging a hand down his face, he turned back towards the door and said, “I need to go get some fresh air. Bye, Harry.” 

He started to walk towards the door and Harry felt panic claw up his throat. Without really knowing what he was doing, words started to fall from his lips and Eggsy turned back towards him.

“Look, um, I’m sorry if I’ve been insufferable. I don’t think you’re below us at all. I mean, there  _ are _ elements of the ridiculous about you. Your clothing choices, for one. You’re also an appallingly bad public speaker. Your mother’s a pretty interesting character…” Eggsy started to protest at this, but Harry lifted a hand to stop him. “I’ve been unforgivably rude to you, Eggsy. Please. When I met you at the Christmas party, I saw your reindeer jumper and didn’t allow you the opportunity to show who you really are.” Harry paused, annoyed with his own bumbling. “See, the thing is, what I’m trying to say  _ very _ inarticulately, that in fact, despite appearances, I like you. Very much.”

Eggsy let out a snort of laughter and rolled his eyes. “Sure. Apart from the vulgar mouth, and the girly drinks...ah, and the inability to hide my feelin-” Before he could finish, Harry cut him off.

“No, no. I  _ like  _ you...very much. Just as you are.”

Eggsy stared at him, the green of his eyes sparkling in the sunlight that was leaking in through the window. His lips were pink from where he had been worrying at them with his teeth, and the telltale pink flush was spreading slowly across his cheeks. 

“You  _ what?” _

Harry felt like there was a wad of cotton in his throat. He had never expressed his feelings so openly to someone before, and Eggsy’s response wasn’t exactly what he had been hoping for. As he opened his mouth to repeat his statement yet again, Roxy’s head poked in through the door. She was smiling brightly, her hand curved around the door as she looked at them both.

“Eggsy, Percy wants to celebrate both of us being the final two. We’re heading down to the kitchens to grab some food and Percy’s bringing his bottle of Dalmore.”

Harry felt a pang of jealousy as he said, “The 62 Single Hiland Malt?”

“Erm, yes, that one...sir,” Roxy replied. 

“Well, don't let me be the one to stop you, Eggsy. That's a fine bottle of scotch and I'd be remiss to let you miss out. Enjoy, and superb job.” He smiled at Eggsy, the corners of his mouth turning up warmly before gliding past him with a clap on the shoulder. He nodded at Roxy, the smile still on his lips, as he exited the room and beelined for his quarters. 


	6. crikey.

Two days later, Merlin called Harry into his office. His face was ashen and the grip on his tablet was practically white knuckled. 

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, skipping over formalities.

“Bors was killed,” Merlin replied, his lips resting in a thin line. 

Harry sank into the chair next to Merlin, his long limbs splayed out in front of him as he dug one of his hands into his hair. “Well isn’t that a fucking blow,” he muttered.

“It is. I currently have Lamorak telling his wife, which I’m sure is going poorly. Services will probably be next week.”

Harry let out a hum that sounded more like a groan. The two men sat in silence, lost in their own thoughts, when Harry suddenly sat up in his chair and looked at Merlin.

“Wait, so if Bors is gone, and Lancelot is, too, that means Eggsy automatically becomes an agent.”

A look of recognition began to dawn on Merlin’s face as he looked back at Harry. “Fuck, Harry, I hadn’t even thought of that.”

Despite the severity of the situation, Harry couldn't hide the joy on his face at the idea of Eggsy becoming an agent without losing Roxy, too.

“This is bloody brilliant,” he murmured, more to himself than Merlin. 

“What's that?” Merlin asked over his shoulder. He had started to type on the screen in front of him, his fingers flying over the keys and clearly ignoring Harry and his musings. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Harry replied, standing up from his chair. “I'm going to head out. Let me know if you need anything for Bors. I was in a coma for Lancelot, so I'd like to be a pallbearer for this one...make up for lost time.”

“Noted,” Merlin said. He turned back to his screen and left Harry to exit. 

Without hesitation, Harry left the room and beelined to where he knew he'd find Roxanne.


	7. should've done this years ago

A week later, Harry found himself awkwardly standing on the front steps of a very posh looking building. It was white brick with black window frames and a heavy black door with gold hardware. Next to the door was a glass frame that held all the names of the tenants next to their flat number. Harry stared at “Roxanne Morton” for what felt like an eternity until he finally gained the courage to press his fingertip against the button next to her name. 

Without a word, someone buzzed him into the building. Harry entered and found himself in a foyer that would've taken his breath away if he weren't a more worldly man. Its walls were paneled in dark wood, and the floor was a repeating pattern of blues and oranges in Moroccan tile. A beautiful chandelier hung from the vaulted ceiling, sending twinkling spots of light dancing along the walls. 

Harry wouldn't have expected anything less from Roxy. 

Harry looked up the staircase that ended on the second floor. There were three heavy looking doors situated on the landing, and each had an obvious vibe about it. The first one had an umbrella leaned against the door jamb, and Harry could just make out the tops of a pair of wellies. The door next to it had a big, beautiful floral wreath, and Harry could practically smell the cinnamon from whatever candle he was sure they were burning. The final door, however, was nondescript. It had no baubles, no personal affects, but there was a low rumble of noise eminating from under the door. 

Harry slowly ascended the stairs, holding his suit jacket closed with one hand while the other swung freely at his side as it held a bottle of vodka. He stood in front of the nondescript door, listening to the laughter and music that was muffled by the door. He could distinctly make out Roxy’s voice, and the goofy laugh that was tumbling over her conversation was unmistakable. 

His heart immediately started to race.

Before he could convince himself that this was a terrible idea, Harry lifted a fist and gave three swift knocks on the door before taking a step back. It was only a matter of seconds before the door flung open in a rush of wind, and Harry stood face-to-face with Eggsy. They both stood there, Eggsy’s jaw gaping open and Harry’s mouth in a thin, unreadable line. 

“Harry?” Eggsy said. He was wearing an apron with what appeared to have sauce splashed across the front of it, and his hair was in an attractive disarray on top of his head. One little chunk of hair near the front of his hairline was sticking up straight, soaked in the same sauce that was across Eggsy’s front. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes were sparkling, and Harry decided he had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

“Hello,” Harry said, allowing a rare quirk of his lips in Eggsy’s direction. “I hope I’m not interrupting. I just wanted to come and congratulate Kingsman’s newest agent.” He held out the bottle of vodka to Eggsy, who awkwardly took it from him. Eggsy glanced down at the label then back up at Harry, his eyebrows furrowing together as he smirked at Harry. 

“Whipped cream vodka? Uh, thanks,” he said to Harry. 

Harry felt a very unnatural blush creep up under his collar as he said, “Well, ah, I know you liked sweeter drinks. I figured it’d be quite good with orange soda.”

At this, Eggsy grinned. “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked back over his shoulder at the small gathering of people in Roxy’s living room before turning back to him and saying, “Do you wanna come in?” He took a step back, allowing space for Harry to brush by him and into the flat. Harry held his suit jacket closed with one hand before sliding past Eggsy, the heat from Eggsy’s body practically seeping into the fabric of Harry’s clothes.

Once inside, Harry saw that he wasn’t the only Kingsman agent attending. There was Percival, looking quite relaxed in a pair of wool trousers and a black, thick-neck cardigan that was buttoned up to his breastbone over a white oxford. He was sitting on the couch next to Roxy, who was wearing a pair of black skinny corduroys and a cream cableknit sweater. Bennett, Roxy’s poodle, was draped between the two of them, her head in Pericval’s lap and her tail thumping enthusiastically against Roxy’s thigh. Roxy grinned at Harry from across the room as Percival raised his rocks glass in greeting. 

“Harry! I’m so glad you could make it!” Roxy said enthusiastically. “We’re just about to have dinner.” She glanced at Eggsy who was standing behind Harry before tilting her head to the side and saying, “Well, if Eggsy can get his shit together.” 

Harry glanced back over his shoulder to where Eggsy was now standing. The bottle of vodka was cradled in the crook of his arm like a baby, and his other arm hung limply at his side. The sauce on the front of his apron and smeared in his hair was starting to form a crust around the edges, and he had a heat in his eyes that made something tense in Harry’s gut.

“You can fuck off, Rox,” he said as he grabbed the vodka and let it swing next to his leg. “This dinner is going to be fucking fantastic.” He looked at Harry, then back at Roxy, and turned on his heel towards the kitchen.

With a chuckle, Harry unbuttoned his jacket and slid it off of his arms. “May I?” he said to Roxy, nodding towards the coat closet. She nodded enthusiastically, unable to answer around the gulp of wine she had just taken. Harry slid his jacket onto a hanger before closing the door. He looked at Percival and Roxy before saying, “I’m going to see if he needs any help.” Roxy shot him a knowing smirk over the rim of her wine glass, and Harry left the room before she could make a comment.

Inside Roxy’s pristine, white marble kitchen, Harry found Eggsy with his back towards the door. He was practically bent in half, rummaging around in Roxy’s refrigerator as he muttered, “Where the fuck is the fucking tuna?” 

“Need some help?”

Eggsy jumped at the sound of Harry’s voice, cursing under his breath as he brought his hand up to his chest and turning towards Harry. “For fuck’s sake, Harry, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

“I apologize. You’re a spy...I thought you would have heard me come in.”

Eggsy scrunched his face into a mocking expression while saying, “Ha ha,” before looking around the kitchen. Bowls and spoons were scattered everywhere, and Eggsy had a recipe up on an iPad that was perched on a stand. He could faintly make out the sounds of Elton John’s “Crocodile Rock” playing from the bluetooth speaker that sat next to the iPad. A pot was on the stove, bubbling lazily and splattering what appeared to be blue liquid on Roxy’s marble countertops. 

“Actually, yeah, I could,” Eggsy replied, refusing to make eye contact with Harry.

Harry smiled warmly at him. He undid his cufflinks and slid them into his pants pocket before rolling the sleeves up to his elbows. Once they were in a crisp, even fold, he loosened the knot of his tie and approached the stove. He was hyper aware of Eggy’s eyes on him as he bent over the pot. Inside, the blue liquid was spluttering and splashing all over the stove, and the butt of a leek was poking out of the surface. The blue string tying it together was slowing bleeding its color into the pot, the azure shade of ink darkest next to the fibers floating at the top.

“How does it look?” he heard Eggsy ask as he peered over Harry’s shoulder.

“Well, it’s blue.”

“Fuck,” Eggsy muttered, letting out a breath. “Must’ve been the string.”

“Ah, yes, the exotic ‘String Soup’.” Harry smirked at him, and Eggsy smiled back. A warmth erupted in Harry’s chest at the sight, and he had to clear his throat to try and dismantle it. “There’s not enough blue food, if you ask me.”

Eggsy’s smile turned into a grin, and Harry felt his own dimple threaten to create a sinkhole in the side of his face. “What’re we gonna do?” he said, nodding his head towards the pot. “Jamal and Ryan’ll be here any minute.”

“Let’s have a drink,” Harry replied. He turned around and headed towards the counter where the bottle of whipped cream vodka he had brought sat. “Why don’t you show me how you drink something like this?”

Eggsy laughed at that, crossing the space between them to take the bottle from Harry’s hands. He pulled two glasses down from Roxy’s cabinet and dumped some ice into them. “Not exactly a martini, but it’ll do,” he said, smirking in Harry’s direction. Harry watched him as he poured about two fingers of vodka in each glass, the ice cracking as the liquid settled around the cubes. Next, Eggsy went over to the fridge and rooted around inside before emerging with a can of Coca Cola. 

“No orange soda?” Harry asked innocently.

“You’re lucky Rox even has this.” He cracked the can open and poured the soda into both glasses, filling it to the brim. Taking a spoon from the drawer, he gave both glasses a quick stir before placing the spoon in his mouth and gently sucking the moisture off of it. 

Harry wanted to die.

Eggsy, unaware of Harry practically drooling over him, grabbed both glasses and turned towards Harry. He held one of them out, which Harry took. Their fingers brushed as they exchanged the drink, and Harry gave Eggsy a smile that sprung up on its own volition. He held out the glass that he was now holding and said, “Congratulations.” Eggsy beamed at him and replied, “Thank you.”

They both took a sip, and Harry was reluctant to admit how good it tasted. Instead of saying it out loud, he simply took another gulp and watched Eggsy look at him with a smug expression. They stood there in silence, smiling at each other shyly and occasionally taking a sip of their drinks before Eggsy said, “Did I really run around your lawn naked?”

“Oh, yes,” Harry replied. “It was my thirtieth birthday, I believe. Your father came round with your mum and you. Stripped yourself straight down to your knickers after you accidentally spilled an ice cream cone down the front of you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen your father run that fast, trying to catch you as you raced around the lawn.”

“How old was I?”

“Oh, I don’t know...five, maybe?”

“To think that I was only five at your thirtieth birthday party,” Eggsy said, contemplatively looking at his glass. “Kinda pervy, if you think about it.” Harry almost choked on his drink, but quickly regained his composure. Eggsy laughed at him openly, clapping a hand on his shoulder before pointing his thumb towards the stove. “Let’s get cracking, eh?”

An hour and a half later, Harry and Eggsy had a dinner of broccoli cheddar quiche prepared that wasn’t half bad. Ryan and Jamal had shown up with five minutes left on the timer, and they both had shot glances at Harry in a way that suggested they knew about him, even though he hadn’t known a thing about them. Once dinner was served, Eggsy and Roxy sat at either end of the table and the rest of the party filled in the spaces between. Somehow Harry ended up next to Eggsy, their knees occasionally brushing under the table, which sent a terrible shock to Harry’s pelvis every time it happened. 

Halfway through the quiche, Jamal looked over at Harry. The conversation up until this point had been pleasant--it mostly consisted of stories about Eggsy from his time growing up, or discussions about the latest program on the BBC. Something in Jamal’s eyes, however, told Harry that what was to come wasn’t exactly dinner conversation.

“So, Harry, where’s your man tonight? Bald guy? Glasses?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know who you’re talking about,” Harry replied, his eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“Yeah you do, Eggsy’s told us abou--”

“Eat up! Eat up! There’s plenty more!” Eggsy interrupted Jamal, quickly standing up to go and retrieve the dessert that was in the fridge. Jamal’s eyes followed him as he left the table to pop into the kitchen, and Harry felt an unease in his gut. At the prospect of dessert, Harry heard Ryan murmur, “I hope it’s pudding.”

Eggsy soon remerged with a custard tart, and a collective sound of appreciation went around the table. Eggsy sat it in the middle of the table before generously scooping out a serving for each guest. They all tucked in, and Ryan let out an enthusiastic, “Christ, bruv, this is delicious. I didn’t know you could bake!”

At this, Eggsy flushed crimson before saying, “I didn’t bake it. Picked it up at the bakery on the way here.”

Everyone laughed while Harry looked at Eggsy warmly. There was something about his openness and ability to laugh at himself that was unlike anything Harry had experienced in another person. It made him warm and pliant, like when he first woke up in the morning and was still snugly tucked under the duvet. He was so lost in his admiration for Eggsy’s open smile and sparkling green eyes that he almost didn’t hear Jamal speaking.

“To Eggsy, who  _ can’t  _ cook, but who we love, just as he is.” 

It was the chorus of, “Just as he is,” that snapped Harry out of his reverie, just in time to catch Eggsy shooting daggers in Jamal’s direction. With no time in between, his gaze suddenly turned and settled on Harry. Unable to look away from the dimple in Eggsy’s cheek and the sparkle in his eyes, Harry simply gazed back. Without breaking eye contact, he took a sip from his wine glass before setting it on the table.

Suddenly, there was a buzz at the door. Harry took his eyes off of Eggsy’s to look towards the foyer. Percival stood up, wiping the corners of his mouth with his napkin before saying, “I’ll get it.” Harry watched him walk out of the room and towards the front door. Everyone was craning their necks, confusion etched on their features as they waited for Percival’s voice.

The words they heard, though, were far from a greeting.

“What in bloody hell are you doing here?” Percival said.

Suddenly, they all heard a grunt as whoever was at the door pushed their way into Roxy’s flat. Roxy, Eggsy and Harry all went to stand up, their hands splayed flat on the tabletop and their stance ready to fight. They heard footsteps echo through the foyer, followed by the sound of a more urgent footfall. “Where is he?” they heard someone say. “Where’s the pleb?”

Charlie Hesketh burst through the door to the dining room. His hair was in disarray and he had bags under his eyes as he wildly looked around the room.  _ “You,” _ he seethed, taking a step towards Eggsy.  _ “You  _ are the reason I’m not a Kingsman. I’ve been completely disowned by my family. I haven’t a bloody cent to my name thanks to you.” 

Harry could practically smell the liquor seeping out of Charlie’s pores.

“Go the fuck home, Charlie,” Eggsy said. 

“Fuck off.” Charlie looked around the room at the rest of the party. His eyes settled on Harry and he took a step closer to the table.  _ “Galahad,” _ he sneered. “The noblest of them all. Sticking up for your sweet, darling boy and throwing me under the bus.” He was closing in on the table now, and Harry could feel himself tensing up. “Arthur hates you, you know. Thinks you’re an utter disgrace, the way you lower yourself to the dregs of society and stick up for them. Always spouting off your gentleman bullshit. I can see right through you, old man. How much longer could you even have as an agent? One, two years tops? Shouldn’t you be retiring soon?”

With that, Harry looked towards Eggsy and said, “I apologize for this.” He then turned to Charlie and said, “Alright, Hesketh. Step outside.”

“I’m sorry? Outside? Should I bring my dueling pistols, or my sword?” He snorted, looking around the table for someone to laugh with, but no one was smiling. 

Harry neatly stepped around the table and headed towards the front door. He opened the coat closet, removed his suit jacket, and slid into it. He then turned toward the door where he opened it and held out an inviting hand, ushering Charlie out. Clearly made uncomfortable by all the attention he was now garnering, Charlie made his way to the exit without a word, glaring at Harry as he passed by. He followed Charlie down the staircase to the foyer of the building, and then outside onto the quiet street where Roxy lived. In the distance, Harry could make out the hurried clattering of several pairs of feet following them.

Once on the curb, Harry turned and faced Charlie, squaring his shoulders and unbuttoning the front of his jacket. Charlie had his hands in the pockets of his Burberry trench, the tip of his tongue cockily tracing a pattern along the corner of his lips. Harry slid the glasses he was wearing off of his face, placed them inside of his jacket, and looked at Charlie.

“I should have done this months ago,” he said calmly.

“Done what?” Charlie replied, the tone of his voice equivalent to someone spitting on you in the street.

“This,” Harry said, and then cocked his arm back and punched Charlie square in the face.

The next few moments were a blur. Harry clearly had the upperhand, which he would have had whether Charlie was sober or not. But Charlie put up a surprising fight. The scuffle migrated from in front of Roxy’s house, where Charlie was bleeding brilliantly all over the concrete, to the front of a Greek restaurant. At this point, Jamal and Ryan had started to chant the word, “FIGHT!” over and over again, which sparked something animalistic and juvenile in Harry. All of the terrible, crass things Charlie had said to Eggsy over the last few months were on a continuous loop in his head as his fist made repeated contact with Charlie’s face.

Somewhere in between knocking out Charlie’s front tooth and Charlie giving Harry a significant black eye, they both ended up standing in the middle of the Greek restaurant while several patrons stared at them in wide-eyed disbelief. Echoing from the upstairs of the restaurant was the beginnings of “Happy Birthday,” which Harry halfheartedly joined in singing to try and make the situation less obvious. This didn’t work, however, when Charlie tackled him into a table full of people--after fighting him off, Harry stood up to find tzatziki sauce and stuffed olive leaves stuck to the front of his suit. He turned towards Charlie and grabbed him by the collar, hauling him towards the front of the restaurant where he promptly threw him out of the front window.

The glass of the window smashed beautifully out into the street, haloing Charlie’s now limp body as he lay in the middle of the asphalt. Eggsy, Roxy, Jamal, Ryan and Percival were all standing on the opposite curb, their mouths agape and glee written on just Jamal’s and Ryan’s faces. Harry stepped neatly through the broken window, picking his way around the shards of glass that now littered the area. He was breathing heavily, his hair had come free from its pomade, and most of his body was bloody, but he was content. 

Suddenly, Eggsy’s voice echoed out across the street. “Not really operating under the highest form of discretion, are you?” He was quickly walking towards them, anger and disbelief written across his features as Charlie slowly came to on the curb. He was on his hands and knees, slowly pushing himself up into a standing position as his nose bled down the front of his shirt. Harry stood nearby, still trying to catch his breath. 

“I’m sorry, what?” he said as his breath heaved in his chest.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Eggsy croaked, bending over to help Charlie up into a standing position. The sight of it made Harry sick. He turned around and started to walk away, embarrassed and angry and even a little upset.

“Yeah, wanker,” Charlie called out behind him. 

Harry turned back towards them, took two quick steps, and knocked Charlie completely out cold. He watched as Charlie’s body slumped over and landed on the street with a sickening thud.

_ “What _ is your problem?” Eggsy cried out, kneeling down next to Charlie and placing a hand on his back.

“What’s  _ my  _ problem?” Harry panted, looking down at Eggsy as if he’d been the one to kill Mr. Pickle.

“You-you give off this impression of being all moral, and noble...and  _ normal _ , and helpful in the kitchen. But you’re just as bad as the rest of them!”

Harry looked down at Eggsy, his pulse hammering in his chest as the adrenaline from finally getting to knock Charlie out started to wean itself away. “It seems,” he said, “that I’ve been laboring under a misapprehension. A very, very foolish mistake.” He took a deep breath. “Forgive me.”

With that, Harry pulled the cuffs of his shirt down out of the sleeves of his jacket, smoothed his lapel, tried to contain his unruly hair, and turned on his heel. As heat crept up the back of his neck and a lump formed in his throat, Harry Hart retreated from the scene with his tail between his legs, despite the confident swagger he tried to maintain.


	8. most unorthodox position

When Harry arrived home that night, he divested himself of his suit and tie right in the doorway, leaving it in a crumpled heap. He adjusted the waistband of his boxer briefs, his hand running underneath the hem of his undershirt as he padded into the kitchen in his socks. Grabbing a rocks glass from the cabinet, he poured a generous amount of gin into the glass and splashed some tonic into it. Taking a long sip, he fished around in his freezer until he found a bag of frozen peas, which he took out and immediately applied to the black eye that was now blooming across his face. 

With what little dignity he had left, Harry shuffled into the living room, collapsed onto the couch, and lay his head back to better allow the peas to soothe his wound. He already regretted not grabbing a bendy straw to drink the gin without moving. 

How he had come to be in this predicament was beyond him. He was completely besotted with a man half of his age, who clearly thought he was a monster, and who had pushed him to the point of retreating guiltily instead of fighting back. It reminded him so much of the first time had felt this way, and that had fallen spectacularly to shit.

Harry had almost been married once, a very long time ago, to a beautiful girl with auburn hair and green eyes like Eggsy’s. Her name had been Susan and they had met in school, during one of their biology classes. Harry had stared at her from across the classroom with stars in his eyes and an almost erect boner in his trousers. After a fumbling introduction almost as painful as the one he had with Eggsy, Harry somehow managed to arrange a date with her. They went to the Stratford-Upon-Avon Butterfly Farm, where Harry pointed out every single species of butterfly that they saw. Susan had taken enthusiastic notes in her field notebook, clinging to his arm when he wasn’t keeping her enraptured with his widespread knowledge.

Harry had been a far cry from his current self back then--he was gangly and awkward, with doe eyes and legs that were reminiscent of a newborn foal. His hair was always an unruly mess and he almost always had an ink smudge on some part of his body. All he had wanted to do was become a lepidopterist and marry Susan. Susan, apparently, had other plans.

About a year into their relationship, Harry came home to their flat after spending hours in the library, entrenched in research. He had climbed the stairs, jingling his keys happily as he thought about the beautiful woman waiting for him on the other side of the door. He had slid the key into the lock, opened the door, and cheerily called out, “Susan, darling, I’m home!” The greeting was cut short, however, when he saw his girlfriend’s pert white arse high in the air as she hungrily dragged her teeth down the torso of another man--a  _ naked _ man. 

Charlie Hesketh had been so similar to the man he had found Susan with. His name had been Archie and he wore an Hermes belt with Burberry loafers. His hair was almost as thick as Harry’s, but white-blonde and gelled straight back. His piercing blue eyes had shot straight into Harry’s soul right before Harry cocked back and slammed his fist into his face. 

It was in that moment, or maybe the moments after the eruption of yelling and screaming that came out of him, that Harry decided monogamy wasn’t for him. Lepidoptery would become a hobby--something he could retreat into when life became too hard--and all of his focus could be on something more fulfilling. He joined the army only a few months after the incident, burning any and all letters that came from Susan while he was in training. It wasn’t long after his enrollment that Kingsman found and contacted him, drawn by his unwavering drive and incredibly bright mind.

Harry sighed as the memory of Susan seared into his chest. She was something that rarely came to the surface anymore. He threw the tumbler of gin back, allowing it to suffuse into his limbs and steady his heartbeat. Water from the peas was starting to dribble down the side of his face as they defrosted, and the silence in the house was starting to fray his already shaky nerves. Sliding the now empty tumbler onto the side table, Harry stood up and crossed the living room to where his suit was still laying on the floor. He rummaged through the pockets until he found his cell phone. 

With a few quick jabs at the screen, it began to ring.

“Everything alright?” was the greeting on the other end.

“I’ve royally fucked everything up and I don’t want to be alone because I’m thinking about Susan. And Eggsy. And what a complete tit I am. Care for a drink?”

Merlin laughed down the line, a warm familiar sound that gave Harry a bit more of a foothold. “I heard it was spectacular. Bloody noses, black eyes, broken windows. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“I’m assuming Roxy has contacted you?”

“Wore her glasses the whole time.”

_ Fuck. _ “Well, I’m here if you want to get plastered with a pathetic old sod. I’m not wearing trousers and have no intention of putting them on, either.”

“Is that your attempt to try and tempt me? Because it isn’t working.”

“Be here in fifteen minutes before I come find you myself.”

“Fine. I’ll see you in fifteen.”

They both hung up and Harry let out a groan. He walked back into the kitchen, threw the half-defrosted peas in the freezer, and grabbed a bendy straw out of the drawer. It was going to be a long night.


	9. best person, really

The weeks following the incident were awkward and uncomfortable and Harry did everything in his power to avoid Eggsy. He never made eye contact with him and spent most of his free time in his quarters. Eggsy made no attempt to speak to him, which Harry was secretly thankful for. He wasn’t sure if he could subject himself to anymore judgment from Eggsy. 

One Thursday, Merlin called him into his office and told him he’d be on a six-month long undercover mission in New York, attempting to bust up a human trafficking ring that was using the Port Authority as its entry. 

“I figured you’d want the break from the awkward glances and infuriating comments,” Merlin had said, handing him the file. “You leave on Monday.”

“Six months, you say?” Harry replied, flipping the folder open and glancing at the photos paper clipped to huge packets of paper. 

“More, if we don’t wrap it up by then.”

“I’ll take it.”

“I had a feeling. Remember, you leave Monday, so whatever loose ends you need to tie up, do it now. Six months is a lot longer in person than it is on paper.”

Harry rolled his eyes before saying, “You know I have no loose ends to tie up.”

Merlin shrugged as he turned back towards his computer. “Never say never, mate.”

Harry gathered his things and slid the file under his arm. He clapped a hand onto Merlin’s shoulder in a silent goodbye, then made his way out of the tech cave. He walked onto the lift, deep in thought about things that had absolutely no connection to New York. Mostly he was engrossed in the vision of Eggsy’s green eyes and pink lips wavering in his mind.

The elevator stopped on its ascent and pinged before the doors opened. Harry busied himself with looking at his shoes, embarrassed by the fact that he was still thinking about Eggsy even though no one could read his mind. He heard someone enter the lift and saw a pair of oxfords enter into his line of sight. Slowly, Harry lifted his head, his eyes trailing up the pinstriped lines of the person’s legs, past their waist, and finally settling on their face.

Eggsy looked at Harry with a fondness in his eyes that he hadn’t seen in months.

“Hello,” Harry murmured, the breath leaving his lungs.

“Hey,” Eggsy replied. He took a step and settled himself next to Harry, his hands in his pants pockets and his feet at a wide stance. 

“Alright?” Harry asked, looking up at the numbers ticking above the lift buttons.

Eggsy didn’t respond, just stepped forward and hit the emergency button on the panel of buttons.

“What are you doing?” Harry said, looking at Eggsy with panic in his eyes. 

“Look, Harry, we’ve gotta talk. I owe you an apology”

Harry didn’t respond, the ability to speak suddenly leaving him with just a dry throat. He swallowed.

“Harry,” Eggsy began, turning back to face Harry. “Merlin told me about Susan. About the guy. I get it now.”

Harry finally found the ability to speak. He cleared his throat and said, “Ah, did he now. Yes, well...what’s in the past is in the past. I’ve moved on.”

“Clearly not, bruv. You practically murdered Charlie. Beat him to a pulp, for lack of better wording.”

“Well, yes, I suppose I did. I just didn’t like the way he spoke to you,” Harry said, pausing before starting again. “To either of us, really, but mostly to you.”

“Yeah, well, thanks...look, Harry, you told me once that you liked me just as I am.” He took a step towards Harry, both of his hands worrying at each other in front of him. Harry looked down at them, and Eggsy followed his gaze. Embarrassed by his lack of confidence, Eggsy quickly stuffed his hands into his pockets again and took a steadying breath. “I just wanted to say...likewise. You’re kind of haughty and I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wearing something other than a stuffy suit...and Roxy and I agree that you should rethink the length of your sideburns. All that aside, though, you’re a nice guy, and I like you.” He still couldn’t make eye contact with Harry as he looked right past Harry’s ear, the top of his teeth worrying at his lip. “If you, uh, wanted to pop by some time, that’d be nice. More than nice, if I’m to be honest.”

Eggsy now allowed his eyes to settle on Harry’s, and Harry felt his palms immediately start to sweat. 

“Right,” he said. “Crikey.” 

Eggsy let out a huff of breath before smiling at Harry. He turned around and pressed the button that would allow the lift to finish its travels before returning to his spot next to Harry.

“Now that I’ve gotten that off my chest, how have you been?” he said jovially.

Still reeling from Eggsy’s confession, Harry glanced towards him and then back to the gold doors of the lift. “Um, fine, I guess? Merlin’s just assigned me to a mission in New York.”

“Ohh, nice,” Eggsy said, flashing a grin in his direction. “How long?”

“Six months,” Harry said. The words fell flat once they were out of his mouth, and he could palpably feel Eggsy’s surprise in the air. 

“Six months?” he croaked out. “No, no, you can’t go.” Harry looked at Eggsy in bewilderment, and Eggsy quickly schooled his features into something less desperate. “Harry, it’s just, y’know, Kingsman would be losing their best agent for half a year. That’s...that’s all.” He cleared his throat just as the lift pinged, indicating they’d reached their floor. The doors slid open and Eggsy looked towards Harry. His eyes glimmered with moisture as he gave a shaky smile to Harry. “Good luck, guv. Um, yeah, I guess I’ll see you in a few months.”

  
Before Harry could reply, Eggsy had exited the lift and left Harry standing by himself.


	10. oh yes they fucking do

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick note: this chapter is from Eggsy's POV instead of Harry's. I felt like it did the scene more justice, so I hope it isn't too confusing!

The last thing Eggsy had anticipated seeing outside of his flat was Harry Hart walking towards him in the blinding snow. 

He had been standing outside of his building, fumbling with the keys he was holding in his gloved hands. Ryan and Jamal had shown up unannounced, wanting to cheer him up after he had spent the weekend pouting over Harry’s mission. They had planned a quick getaway to Paris, which Eggsy had reluctantly agreed to go on. He had just found the key to his building when he heard the crunch of footsteps behind him.

“Eggsy?”

He knew that voice almost as well as he knew his own, though he’d never admit it to anyone. But it was impossible, because Harry was in New York for the next six months. Turning around, he realized that he actually hadn’t been hallucinating--Harry was standing in front of him, bundled up in a navy turtleneck with a heavy wool jacket over it. His glasses were on his face, covered in moisture and slowly gathering snow on the tops of them.

“What are you doing here?” Eggsy blurted out as his heart threatened to beat right out of his chest. 

“Merlin owed me a favor,” Harry replied with a warm smile. “I knew allowing him to drag me to that John Denver concert back in the nineties would eventually pay off.”

Nothing was making sense or sinking in. “I thought you were in America?” he said, his face still scrunched up in confusion.

“Well, yes, I was,” Harry replied, taking a step closer to Eggsy. Eggsy could see his breath puffing from between his lips. The sight made his throat close. “See, the thing is, I realized I had forgotten something back home.”

“Which was?”

“Well, I realized that I had forgotten to, um, kiss you goodbye. Would you mind?”

What little breath that was left in Eggsy’s lungs escaped him completely, and he stood rooted to the spot. The man who he had been secretly pining for for over a year was standing on his doorstep, politely asking to kiss him. The man who he was convinced loved Merlin, not him, and who had beaten the daylights out of Charlie Hesketh in his honor, was practically holding his heart out in his hands and offering it to Eggsy.

It was unreal.

“So, you’re not going to America?” he asked. 

“No, no...not.” 

“You’re staying here?”

“So it would seem,” Harry replied. He was now grinning at Eggsy, his dimple a dark shadow in the span of his cheek. Eggsy wanted to know what it tasted like. “May I?” Harry prompted, his eyes flicking down to where Eggsy’s mouth sat in a perfect O. 

Unable to speak, Eggsy simply nodded his head. Harry took another tentative step forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets and reaching out to Eggsy’s waist. With a sharp intake of breath, Eggsy tilted his head back and closed his eyes.  


The moment was cut short, however, when the honking of a car horn cut across the quiet street. Eggsy’s eyes snapped open to see Jamal and Ryan hanging out of Ryan’s hatchback. They were whooping and hollering, Ryan repeatedly honking the horn as Jamal hung out of the passenger side window.

“Friends of yours?” Harry said, the space between them so close that Eggsy could feel the warmth of his breath on his cheek.

Giddy with the moment, Eggsy was grinning from ear-to-ear as he shook his head no. “Never seen them in my life,” he replied. He turned back to Harry in an attempt to reinitiate the kiss that he had missed out on, but Jamal’s voice rang out behind him.

“So are you coming to fucking Paris or not?” 

Eggsy shook his head and said, “Mmm, not.”

“Good. No fucking room anyway.”

Jamal and Eggsy grinned at each other before Eggsy looked back at Harry. He was staring at Eggsy with a fond warmth in his eyes, causing his stomach to erupt in a cloud of butterflies. Harry’s hair was sprinkled with snowflakes, and the smile he was giving Eggsy was causing the lines around his eyes to crinkle in a way that made him weak in the knees. 

“Shall we go upstairs?” Harry murmured.

“Good idea,” Eggsy replied. He shot one more grin to Jamal before turning around and letting himself into the building.

Once inside his flat, he flicked on the light to his kitchen. It was a mess, with magazines and mail strewn all over the table. A few dirty dishes were piled in the sink, and the suit jacket he had worn earlier in the day was hanging from the back of one of his chairs. He cringed at the thought of how much worse his bedroom was.

Harry clearly didn’t care about the mess surrounding them, because he was pressed up against Eggsy’s back and the cold tip of his nose was nuzzling into Eggsy’s jaw as he pressed a thrilling kiss to the soft skin behind Eggsy’s ear. As absolutely tempting as staying there was, Eggsy couldn’t shake the idea of having to entertain Harry in a bedroom that looked like a bomb hit it. 

Reluctantly, he pulled away from Harry and turned to face him. “Can you give me just a minute?” he asked, pressing the flat of his hand against the wool of Harry’s jumper. “You can make yourself at home, read something...I have some pretty high quality magazines.” He trailed off as Harry stepped from behind and stood in front of him. He towered over Eggsy, and the heat in his eyes made Eggsy’s stomach clench. 

Eggsy was still rambling incoherently as Harry stepped into his space and leaned his face down once more to claim Eggsy’s mouth. Eggsy wanted it more than he could express, but he just couldn’t leave all of the dirty clothes on his bed, and he absolutely had to double check that he didn’t leave any wanking material out for Harry to find. Ducking down and away from Harry, he smiled at him apologetically before saying, “I’ll only be a minute.”

Leaving Harry in the kitchen, Eggsy hurried into his bedroom and began heaving things into the hamper that stood in the corner of the room. He shoved all of the pairs of shoes that littered the floor underneath his bed, pulled the duvet a bit tighter on the mattress, and fluffed the pillows so that they didn’t lay smashed across the top. Eggsy quickly grabbed the signed 5x7 of Colin Firth drinking wine in a bathtub--his big purchase on eBay after the first Kingsman paycheck rolled in--and slammed it into the nightstand drawer. He discreetly pushed the bottle of lotion and tissues behind the lamp before taking a step back and scanning the room. It wasn’t great, but it’d have to do for now. 

Before leaving the bedroom, Eggsy quickly kicked off his trainers, shucked off his jeans, and pulled his henley off. He ran a hand quickly through his hair, trying to subdue the mess that was now crowning his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the pair of silk, tiger striped briefs that Jamal had jokingly bought for him as a gag gift. They had sat perched atop his lamp for so long that he had forgotten about them, but he smirked at the idea of Harry seeing him in them. He would absolutely hate the silk monstrosities, which made Eggsy grin. Crossing the room, he snagged the briefs from their spot and tugged them on. 

With a steadying breath, he walked out of his bedroom and made his way back to the kitchen. Just as he was about to call out Harry’s name, he noticed that the flat was eerily quiet. 

“Harry?” he said, glancing into the living room. “Harry, where are you?” Eggsy looked back around the kitchen, and his eyes fell on the red journal that lay open on the table. “Oh, no no no,” he started to say, quickly crossing the room. 

It wasn’t well known that Eggsy kept a journal, but it was something he had done since his time in the Marines. It helped clear his head at the end of the day, leaving him fresh for whatever tomorrow held. Sadly, most of the last six months involved terrible, angsty paragraphs about how much he hated Harry.

_ June 7, 2015 _

_ I fucking hate that posh prick. He always is looking down his nose at me and following me around the manor like I have no idea what I’m doing. I bet he’d piss himself if he knew what my actual IQ was. He’s always throwing these stupid little smiles my way, and I wouldn’t admit to anyone else that they make my palms sweat, but I still hate it. Clearly he thinks he has an upper hand on me, but I’m only going to let one posh wanker fuck me over, not two. As long as my dick is down Charlie’s throat, I don’t have to listen to him. Sadly, I don’t have the privilege of doing that with Harry. _

Eggsy let out a groan that his neighbors could probably hear. He quickly ran to the window and threw it open. The street below was quiet and vacant, except for the retreating figure of Harry walking away from the building. “Oi! Harry!” he called out, practically hanging by his waist from the window. “Harry!”

When it was obvious that Harry wasn’t going to turn around, Eggsy knew he had only one shot to make things right. Throwing a cardigan on that he had hastily left on the doorknob to his bathroom and the pair of trainers he kept by the front door, Eggsy threw the door open. He quickly ran down the stairs of his flat to his front door, then took the staircase two steps at a time. Out in the snow, he glanced both ways before taking off after Harry. He was in a full-on run at this point, the snow whipping into his face and his heart hammering in his chest.

Eventually, he burst into a quiet little corner of his neighborhood where a few shoppers were milling about. He stood on the street corner, his chest heaving as he ran his hands through his hair. With an angry grunt, he dropped his fists to his sides. It was all over before it even started, and it was his stupid fucking journal that was the nail in the coffin. He was tossing it the second he got back home.

People were now staring at him, his bare chest flushed with the cold and the snow soaking through his trainers. Eggsy simultaneously tried to pull the back of the cardigan down to hide his arse cheeks while pulling the front closed to ward off the cold. He was just about to turn around and retreat back to his flat, where he could drown his sorrows in whipped cream vodka, when he heard the tinkling bell of a shop door opening. Hesitantly, Eggsy turned towards the sound and saw Harry’s tall, broad frame filling the doorway. 

“I’m sorry,” he called out. “I’m so, so fucking sorry. I just...I don’t know what to say. I didn’t mean it. Well, I guess I did? Mean it? I mean, I wrote it down, but I didn’t  _ actually _ mean it.” He dragged a hand down his face. “Fuck, Harry, I’m sorry. It’s just a journal. It’s a load of shit.”

Harry was now slowly walking towards him, glancing up and down Eggsy’s half dressed body, a package in his hand and a look of deep contemplation on his face.

“I know that,” he finally said after what felt like an eternity. Holding the package out to Eggsy, he said, “That’s why I was buying you a new one. New start, perhaps?” He was now beaming at Eggsy, his crooked grin bright and magnetic. 

In that exact moment, Eggsy could have given a fuck about the journal, or his bedroom, or anything else in the world. All he wanted was Harry’s mouth on his. Unable to keep a grin from breaking across his face, Eggsy closed the space between them and quickly wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck. Harry let out a soft  _ oof _ as he wrapped his arms securely around Eggsy’s waist, pulling him in as if by instinct. He opened the front of his wool overcoat and drew it around them both. 

All of the built up anticipation of Harry being incredibly close to him inside of his flat erupted forth, and Eggsy claimed Harry’s mouth with his own. Harry tasted like cinnamon and gin and chapstick. He was perfect. Slowly, Eggsy poked his tongue forward, and Harry allowed it to pass by his lips and teeth. They were soon full-on snogging in the middle of the street, Eggsy’s senses full of Harry and nothing else.

After what felt like too much time and not enough, Eggsy pulled back and looked up at Harry. Harry was smiling down at Eggsy with the same warm, familiar gaze that made Eggsy’s palms sweat. His glasses were fogged from the heat of their breath, and his shoulders were dusted with snowflakes. Eggsy buried his hands in Harry’s jumper, pulling him a bit closer to him so that he could smell the spice of his aftershave as he said, “Wait a minute, bruv, gentlemen don’t kiss like that.”

With a gravel in his voice that shot straight to Eggsy’s groin, Harry replied, “Oh yes they fucking do,” before bending down and kissing the breath out of Eggsy’s lungs.


End file.
